Dead Poets Society: The First Edition
by Loretta07
Summary: What was the DPS like in Keatings time? What did Keating do to be a hellraiser? YAY! We have our own category!
1. Discovering Independance

Disclaimer: Ummm, last time I checked I didn't own Dead Poets Society so I'm betting I still don't now, even though I wouldn't mind it one bit.  
  
Author's Note: I really hope I can do the movie justice. For now I'm going to stick to Keating's time at Welton and every once and a while, I may put in some of the DPS time period in there but I'm not sure yet. Hope ya'all like it. Oh! Please go to the category suggestion e-mail and suggest a whole category for our wonderful DPS ( thanks!  
  
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Dead Poets Society: The First Edition  
  
"You know what I hate most about this place?"  
  
"You mean, other than the lack of dames?"  
  
"It's deeper than that you horndog. Freethinking-we don't get to do it."  
  
"Freewhat? What is this thinking business you speak of?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
*****************************  
And that's exactly how five teenage boys came up with The Dead Poets Society. Their school, Welton Academy, is the most sufficient preparatory school in the United States. Just ask Mr. Nolan, the new Headmaster. It's his first year and already it seems as if he's been ahead of the school since it was established. Even though Welton was the most sufficient preparatory school in the U.S. it didn't prepare the boys for what was really important-life. In fact, it taught them not to live; to just go, day- by-day, to "succeed" and then to die. That wasn't living. Not all of them were going to just take it sitting down, either.  
  
"Ow! Stupid twig. Where are we going, Keat?"  
  
The five sixteen-year-old boys, all cloaked in their uniform black jackets with hoods, were traipsing through the woods located near their school. John Keating was at least five yards in front of the rest of his friends who weren't exactly looking at this like it was an adventure which was running through John's mind. He didn't even turn back as he practically shouted the answer.  
  
"To our new home!"  
  
Maxwell Deleniko turned to his buddy, Leonardo Layton, who was right beside him.  
  
"Hey Leo, think the cheese slipped off ol' Keat's cracker over break?"  
  
Leo grinned. "Man, I know so. Do you have any idea where we're going?"  
  
Timothy Sites caught up to the two and joined in on the conversation.  
  
"Hell, I don't think even Keats knows where we're going. I bet he's just going to lead us into the middle of the woods and leave us here."  
  
"Nah. He wouldn't do that." Leo disagreed.  
  
"Actually, I would!" Keats said, turning around and stopping in his tracks. "But not tonight. Tonight I've got something else planned guys."  
  
That's when Maxwell noticed it. He began to look around.  
  
"Hey, where's James?"  
  
James Buchman was Keats' best friend. They were all a close group of friends and had been since their eighth year at Welton. But Keats and James had gotten to know each other a year before then and had always been a bit closer. Certainly, Keats wouldn't have left out his buddy on this...would he?  
  
"In here."  
  
Keats stepped aside to reveal a cave entrance, and then he crouched down and walked in.  
  
Tim turned to Leo and Max, "He's gonna lure us in there and kill us."  
  
Leo and Max laughed and then Max said, "Well, I for one have got to know what Keats is cooking up. It's gotta be good if he's risking our expulsion as well as his." And then he entered the cave.  
  
Leo put his hand on Tim's shoulder and said, "Sorry bud...I'm with them." And followed Max into the cave.  
  
Tim shook his head and followed suit, as was expected of him.  
  
Inside the cave it was dark and damp. James and Keats were sitting side by side on two small wooden stools. Max had chosen a place where stone came out from the wall like a bench and Leo was across from him on an upside down waste basket. Tim smacked his head on the stone above.  
  
"Ah!"  
  
The guys laughed as Tim held his forehead and sat down on another upside down wastebasket close to the opening.  
  
"Okay Keats, what's all this about?" Leo asked as he unbuttoned his jacket.  
  
James pulled a large black book out of his army green knapsack and held it up for all to see. It was slightly hard since it was dark, but Keats shined his flashlight on it and Max could barely make out the words "Five Centuries of Verse" inside a horseshoe shaped pattern.  
  
"A stupid lit. book?" Max asked. "You hauled our asses out of bed, led us out of the school, breaking about fifty rules, made us walk through the woods, take us into an old cave just so we can see some lit. book?"  
  
Keats grabbed his heart and James spoke for the first time that night.  
  
"You insult us! This isn't 'some lit. book'! This is a book of poems that are to inspire us! Make us our own people! When we're here we don't have to sit when we're told to sit, talk, when we're told to speak. Hell, we don't have to ask permission to pee, we can just do it in that hole over there! We are gods here, gentlemen!"  
  
"About the peeing thing," Leo said. "Could you guys please hold it?"  
  
"You're not getting it, Leo." Keating said, shaking his head. "What James here is saying, is that we're going to live life how it was meant to be lived-our own way! I refuse to be a banker, like my dad told me I am. I won't do it. I don't want to do that. We're taught everything here except for how to think for ourselves. That is what this is for."  
  
Once again, he held up the book. When he spoke, he looked every one of his friends in the eye. They weren't laughing because this was no laughing matter. They really didn't get to think for their selves, did they? They had always done exactly what had been expected of them, even if they didn't want to. They really weren't happy.  
  
Knowing that he had gotten to them all, Keats opened the large book to the front page where he had written something in and stood up. With his right hand he held the book and with his left, the flashlight. Then he spoke.  
  
" 'I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately/I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life/to put to rout all that was not life/And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.' Henry David Thoreau."  
  
When Keats looked up he knew that he had really struck a cord with all of them this time. He knew that he had chosen the right group of people to be in the society. He knew they would understand, once it was all explained. He knew he wouldn't be alone in the Dead Poets Society. 


	2. Memories and Wonderings

Authors Note: Okay, so yeah....I'm sorry? lol it's been a looooong while since I posted and my apologies are presented to you in the best way I know how....I took an extra lot of time to write this one. I kinda lost my muse for the story, but I jumped back onto the DPS bandwagon. Brokenshells doesn't know it, but she inspired me again. I suggest you go read both her fics out there, especially "Earthward"!  
  
Disclaimer: I know I don't own the movie, that's a given. *but* I do own the four friends of Keating. Yup, they're all mine. I might be willing to share their clones though, if they're requested ;)  
  
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After the Movie  
  
John Keating loaded his bags into the taxi he hailed outside the train station and then got in, saying his destination and nothing else. It was a good half hour to the airport and he decided to observe the damp scenery of New England. Less than a year before he had made this trip going in the opposite direction. And growing up he went both routes. But over time, people tend to change what they do idly.  
  
When he was going to or leaving Welton, he would usually make plans for the following year. Sometimes, he would get a start on some homework. But only just enough that he wouldn't have to worry about it throughout the summer holiday. But in a similar taxi like this one was where he had made the plans for the DPS. It just popped into his mind, like The Book had popped its cover out from under the seat. He remembered his friends debating quietly when they thought he couldn't hear where he had gotten it from. Was it a gift from a sympathizing relative? Or maybe he'd spent time in library and discovered it under inches of dust in the back on an old shelf. But the one he liked the best was the one James had planted in their minds-he stole it. But not from just anywhere; but from the bookshelf in Dr. Nolan's own personal office. And it wasn't the only book there encouraging independence, but it was the only one Keating could grab out of Nolan's hiding place before he would be caught.  
  
But the truth was he had found out. Well, it was more like the book had found him. Sitting in the taxi, on the way to his third year before graduation, Keating had been looking out the window like now, trying to figure out what was missing in his life. And when putting his head down, he saw it peaking out from under the seat. It was old even then, but the gold lettering shone a bit brighter than it did now. That's what had caught his eye, really. And when he flipped it open he realized they'd missed growing up and discovering things for themselves. They'd missed planning their own life, or doing things that wasn't quite planned, just for the heck of it.  
  
In his first day of teaching the kids who most undoubtedly had the same future laid out before them as he once had, without a clue of knowing they could change the route, he knew he would have to show them what was missing. That they had to do things, though not always the most thought-out and sensible things, to actually live. So he'd asked Mr. Pitts to recite a poem one of his friends discovered in The Book. He remembered when that verse had been discovered by them for the first time.  
  
Keating's School Days  
  
" 'I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately/I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life/to put to rout all that was not life/And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.'"  
  
"I hereby call this meeting of the Dead Poets Society to order."  
  
"Here, here!"  
  
The guys laughed at James' outburst and tossed some packaged munchies onto a blanket set in the middle of them all.  
  
"C'mon Timmy, you owe us."  
  
"What? I brought food!"  
  
"Wheat crackers? Aw, hell no Tim!"  
  
"You guys want me to go hungry." Tim muttered as he tossed the cookies his mom sent him into the pile.  
  
"Much better, Timmy boy."  
  
Leo stood up, with another book-not that of the five centuries of verse, but a smaller, more compact one-resting in his hands. He cleared his throat and everyone got quiet. Silently, the teenagers agreed they would randomly stand and read what they felt like, without interruptions.  
  
"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;  
  
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:  
  
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;  
  
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.  
  
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,  
  
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;  
  
And in some perfumes is there more delight  
  
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.  
  
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know  
  
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:  
  
I grant I never saw a goddess go,  
  
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:  
  
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,  
  
As any she belied with false compare."  
  
"That's horrible!" Tim exclaimed.  
  
All the guys turned and stared him down. He visibly withdrew and began to stumble over his words.  
  
"What I mean is, well that-he was saying the girl is ugly and smells and stuff. It was mean, that's what I...not how it was written or read. It was- "  
  
James clapped Tim on the back, shutting him up.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Timmy. I know what you mean. But you're wrong. It means that our man Leo here is in love and she may not be the hottest babe in the world, but he still loves her. Sweet, huh?"  
  
Leo blushed and sat down as the guys "ohhhhhed" at him.  
  
"So who's the lady?" Max asked, chomping on his apple.  
  
"No one." Leo mumbled. "I just thought it was cool. I've been reading his sonnets and this guy knows what he's doing."  
  
"Yeah. Hey, Leo, you're a really bad liar." Max informed him now moving onto a sandwhich.  
  
Then Keating, who had been silent this entire time, stood up himself.  
  
"If he doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to. Besides, I have a poem I would like to read."  
  
Everyone dropped the subject as Keating gave a mysterious smile before pulling out a piece of paper from his coat and unfolding it.  
  
"Cecile  
  
Your gems for eyes  
  
Observe my unworthy mind  
  
Your silken hands  
  
Grasp my course fingers  
  
Your chirrup laugh  
  
Makes me yearn  
  
For your love  
  
Though I'll never be worthy  
  
So I sit  
  
And angst for  
  
Cecile"  
  
The entire time Keating read this, Leo's eyes had widened and he'd moved his mouth up and down but words couldn't come out. Finally when he was done and Keating winked at him, Leo let out a loud protest as he jumped up.  
  
"WHERE DID YOU FIND THAT?!"  
  
"Calm down, old boy. Outbursts like that can not be good for your health. I found it in your notebook. So, Cecile.....who is she?"  
  
Leo sunk back down in his seat.  
  
"My neighbor back home. We've known each other since we were kids." He answered in a resigned tone.  
  
"So? Make a move, buddy. You won't be worthy of her until you do. Cause someone else might jump in if this girl's so great. Then where will you be? On the outside looking in, that's where." John told him while putting an arm around his friend.  
  
Leo shook his head. "It's not that easy, Keat. She might turn me down. Or say, 'let's just be friends' Or somethin."  
  
"Stop making excuses, Layton." James told him absently, while flipping through The Book. He stopped on a page and grinned. "Here, this one sounds good for you, Leo. "To the Virgins-" and the word 'virgins' was stressed, "Make much of Time by Robert Herrick.  
  
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,  
  
Old time is still a-flying,  
  
And this same flower that smiles today,  
  
To-morrow will be dying.  
  
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,  
  
The higher he's a-getting,  
  
The sooner will his race be run,  
  
And nearer he's to setting.  
  
That age is best which is the first,  
  
When youth and blood are warmer;  
  
But being spent, the worse and worst  
  
Times still succeed the former.  
  
Then be not coy, but use your time,  
  
and while ye may, go marry;  
  
For having lost just once your prime,  
  
You may for ever tarry."  
  
"What's that mean?" Tim asked Max in an undertone, hoping that his ignorance wouldn't be recognized by the rest of the group. But Max was to busy still eating to notice his friend wanted to be quiet. He answered in a loud tone.  
  
"It means to not waste time, but to seize the day, you dolt." Then he grabbed for the crackers set with the food, but James hit his hand.  
  
"Ow! What?"  
  
"From now on, you only eat what you bring. You're taking all the food!"  
  
This started an argument between the two but Keating held up a hand to shut them up.  
  
"Carpe Diem." He said.  
  
They all looked between each other for a translation, but it was no good. Keating was the latin tutor in the group.  
  
"What's that mean, Keatsey?" James asked, while pushing Max away from the food.  
  
"Carpe Diem-seize the day. Guys, it's exactly what we're about."  
  
"I thought we were about freethinking. Right?" Tim asked. Silently, John was waiting for him to scratch his head.  
  
James smiled brightly and waved his hand towards himself. "C'mere, Tim." He said in an excited voice, as if he had to tell him something.  
  
Tim leaned in, wanting to hear the secret. But alas, he never found out. Instead of saying anything, James smacked him upside the head.  
  
The guys chuckled. Tim always fell for that. It never failed to make them laugh, either. He was so clueless sometimes.  
  
Leo checked his watch. "Ah guys, we should get back. It's almost 3."  
  
They all pulled on their jackets, except Keating.  
  
"Guys! C'mon. Hands on the book, swear it."  
  
They all looked between each other. This was new.  
  
"Swear what?" Max asked.  
  
But James already knew. Somehow those two always read each other's minds. It was scary how they knew each other so well.  
  
"To Carpe diem, guys!" he exclaimed. "Keats is right! We can't forget this stuff. We can't forget that we can make our own decisions and to rash stuff. I mean, c'mon you guys! We act like our parents already!"  
  
"Hey now, that's going overboard." Leo interjected.  
  
"Admit it, Layton. You only took the extra arithmetic classes because your dad wants you to be an accountant."  
  
"I'm good with numbers." He mumbled.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. C'mon guys! Don't give up your lives!"  
  
"And what are you going to do, Keat?" Max challenged.  
  
Keating stopped for a second and thought. Then a slow grinch-like smile uncurled on his face. "Change lives. I'm going to change lives one day. Starting with you twerps. Now c'mon, swear you'll do your best to carpe diem."  
  
No one could argue with him. They put their hands on the book and swore.  
  
"Carpe Diem, gentleman. Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary!"  
  
[I]In the Taxi[/I]  
  
Keating should his head. He'd said the same things to his first students. It was stupid to think that it would change their lives for good, when it hadn't helped all of his friends either. He wondered if any of them had gotten a happy ending. But wow, he had really messed up the end of Neil's short life. He wondered if Neil would be alive if he hadn't planted so much in him. [I] No. [/I] he said firmly to himself. [I] Neil was already not happy with his life. I didn't tell him to shoot himself. He did get to do something that did made him happy. If he were still alive he would just be an unhappy man, training to be a lawyer or something. Which isn't bad. But it's not what Neil wanted. Not at all.[/I]  
  
John looked up as the taxi stopped in front of the airport he knew so well. When he got back in London, at least he would be with Susan again. And maybe he would check on some of his old school mates. Had they followed through with their pact?  
  
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Erin: Thanks : ) I guess I hadn't realized I'd even developed a writing style.  
  
Datastwistergal: I'm glad you like it so far. I always look forward to updates on your stories.  
  
DreamCatcher8: thank ya. I hoped it would turn some people's eyes. It's all I can hope to do as a fanfic writer.  
  
Asrien: Your review was so eloquent. I was glad to find it there. Did you find the sarcasm? : )  
  
Plainjane: Thanks! Fantastic is overly kind, but it sure brightened my day to get the review! It's been a while, but I did continue.  
  
Dreamer Chick: I did and with more kind reviews I'll maybe post another chapter soon. 


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